BLACK NELL, THE WONDERFUL MARE.
During the early part of the war, Wild Bill came into possession of a young black mare, having captured her from a bushwhacker during Price’s invasion of Missouri. The mare was as black as a coal, and at the proper age to enter upon the course of training Bill put her in. She was full of fire, and the exquisite symmetry of her head, neck, limbs and body, showed the pure blooded stock that was in her. Bill devoted all his leisure time for more than a year teaching the mare tricks which afterwards he used to so much advantage. The mare at length acquired such a complete understanding of Bill’s wishes that her obedience was truly marvelous. First of all, no one could ride or approach the mare except Bill, and to him she was as gentle as a mother to her child. He named her Black Nell, presumably suggested by Claude Duval’s Black Bess, of whose exploits he was so fond of reading.
Black Nell was usually allowed great freedom, because she was so prompt to answer the whistle of Bill; she would leave her feed and come galloping to the call with the most astonishing alacrity. While riding Nell it was only necessary for Bill to wave his hand to set her in a dead run or stop her instantly. A downward motion of his hand would cause her to drop as suddenly as if she had been shot dead, and she would lie perfectly still until the command to rise was given. On one occasion, while Bill was being pursued by a detachment of bushwackers, in passing through a prairie where the grass was very high, his life was saved by the prompt obedience of Nell in dropping down and remaining so quiet that the pursuers passed by within fifty feet without discovering him.
In 1867, while he was in Springfield, Missouri, he astonished a crowd of saloon-loafers by first going into the bar-room and calling his mare to follow. Nell came in, following her master like a dog, without the slightest hesitation. There was an old billiard table in the saloon, too much worn for further service, and upon this he ordered Nell to place herself. She reared up and placed her fore feet upon the table, but it was only after repeated effort and great strain that she succeeded in raising her hind feet to such a height. After getting upon the table, Bill poured out a pint of whisky into a wash-basin, which Nell drank with evident relish. At a wave of the hand she leaped from the table and out into the street, where Bill allowed her to exercise her freedom for several hours.
One of Nell’s greatest accomplishments was leaping, and in this she certainly never had an equal. She had frequently leaped ditches twenty feet in width with apparent ease, and Bill had no hesitancy whatever in riding her over a six feet fence, which she could clear like a deer. This wonderful animal died in 1869, of a complication of diseases, and was buried near Kansas City. Bill mourned her loss as he would that of his parents, whom he devotedly loved, and Nell’s name was never mentioned to him afterwards that he did not burst into tears. He regarded her as the dearest friend he had on earth, and to have her die almost in her prime was a blow and loss he could scarcely endure.